For They Are My Everything
by C. S. BlueSky
Summary: "So, frog, are you going to say something or did you come here only to observe and test my patience?" ... Francis smiled. Definitively not a good day for such a talk, he thought.-/Warnings/- Humans names, FACE family concept & Colonial times.
1. Chapter 1

France was in Arthur's office, sitting on the arm of the sofa located at the middle of the room. He could notice how much England's oh-so-characteristic frown had deepened since they entered the study. Like always he was irritated by Francis presence. When France knocked on his door he firstly refused to let the Frenchman in, but then waved his hand and told him to make it quick because he did not "have the time to deal with your stupidity and nonsense today, and I'm very busy, unlike someone I know". They then went to Arthur's office, which seemed to have been flooded with papers. The biggest pile was almost a palm high. Francis sighted, he also had lots of work to do at home and Arthur being in such an irritable mood would certainly not help, however they needed to talk. Today might've not been the best choice of the day but he was already here and he had made up his mind. Francis did not wish to postpone the moment anymore than he already had.

"So, frog, are you going to say something or did you come here only to observe and test my patience?" The island nation said while moving to sit on the chair behind his desk and resuming in signing the documents he was reading before Francis decided to showed up at his door that morning. Francis smiled. _Definitively not a good day for such a talk, _he thought.

"England, I want to tell Canada and America the truth." Francis said rather calmly, giving the English man a charming smile. He did not want England to notice his hands were shaking.

"What truth, France?" England asked in an irritated voice, without looking up from the paper he was signing. Francis sighted and walked over to the matching of England's chair located in front of the desk, and stood behind it. He lightly touched the chair's fabric, contouring the design of little white flowers and green background with the tip of his index finger. He knew what to expect regarding England's reactions. Centuries by his side had taught him much of the younger's personality but he could not endure it anymore, he needed to do this even if it meant going into war against Arthur. France looked at England's hands since it seemed the other would not give him the pleasure of looking into his beautiful emerald eyes.

"Arthur," Francis noticed that England stopped writing when Francis said his human name "I want to tell Matthew and Alfred that they are our sons."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, frog?" Arthur asked; his grip on the quill tightening. France looked up, hoping to meet the eyes of the only man he truly cared about. Whether it was making love or war, wanting to kiss or kill him, talking or yelling, Arthur was the only person Francis cared about aside from their sons. _Their _sons.

But Francis did not see England's beautiful eyes when he looked up from the flower patterned chair. Arthur was not looking at him furiously, like the Frenchman expected he would be. His eyes remained locked on the paper he had in front of him.

"I asked," Arthur said once again, his voice elevating an octave "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I am talking about. I'm tired of lies, of pretending. I want to tell them the truth of how they came to existence." France moved his eyes once again to England's hands.

"We found them France. Just like every nation in the world, they just appeared." The Englishman said, breathing deeply and resuming in signing the papers in a rather rough and messy manner.

"That," Francis hands tightened around the back of the chair, his eyes narrowed "is _not_ true." Arthur is _so_ mistaken if he thinks Francis would just let him slide with such a lame answer.

"That is true. We found them, I have America and we both have Canada. They are our colonies, frog." Arthur said, in such a serene manner it made Francis want to punch him.

"Is that really what you think? I!…" Francis paused a moment, trying to calm himself and thinking of the right words to use for he knew England could get easily enraged if he said something wrong "I look at Matthew and Alfred and even though they are still kids, since we only _found_ them 6 years ago," The Frenchman felt England's gaze fall upon him "and I'm not blind like you are. And I cannot lie to myself saying we found them. I can't tell them that and pretend I am happy with telling lies."

"They are just colonies, Fran-" Arthur began but was interrupted by the punch Francis gave the chair. He saw the Frenchman glare at him with hate and hurt and sadness in his eyes in a way he never saw before. It was different from the times they fought, the times that England insulted his language, clothes or behaviour. It was different from the numerous times Francis was in the ground after a battle and England plunged his sword through the nation's immortal body. It seemed that the words Arthur was speaking were hurting Francis more than the countless injuries England caused him throughout the centuries all put together.

"They are not just colonies! They are not!" Arthur didn't know if Francis was going to jump on him and try to kill him or start crying. He was grateful Alfred was in the park with his governess and maid, Francis was beeing quite loud.

"We are both nations, frog. Male nations, for that matter." England said, lowering his gaze. He didn't want to look at France… not when he was looking at him like that.

"I wonder if you really can't see it..." Francis said in a tiny voice, like a murmur, lowering his shoulders.

England knew what Francis was talking about. They both had noticed it when they first laid their eyes on Alfred. He was still a baby and yet it was easy to see. Arthur was speechless for a second but he rapidly composed himself, differently from Francis who eyes were full moons and had his mouth open until Arthur gave him a kick. Arthur couldn't see how but it was there, a perfect mixture between Francis and himself. He didn't talk about it with France, and the Frenchman gave up in trying talking about it with England (a result of the threatening glances England gave him every time he gave any sign he wanted to talk). Truth was, Arthur didn't want to think about it. When Matthew showed up three days later things got even more confused. Other nations started to see it too but no one spoke about it. Maybe they assumed it was just coincidence that the young nations looked so much like their colonizers. Francis seemed to be around Arthur more than before after they found America and Canada, although England treated Francis in an increasingly rude manner every day. France did not respond back in the same tone like he would've done in the past, he only ignored the rudeness in England's voice and continued be his cheerful and flirtatious self.

Matthew was so much like France that it was painful. Arthur would see them in in the rare meetings in court or when Francis showed up in his house in Dover so "Mathieu and Alfred can play together. After all, they are border countries" (the "and brothers" part was left unspoken) and he would notice the similarities between Francis and Matthew. Same beautiful hair, same light eyes, same mouth … Canada even spoke French. He was just learning it but he had the same accent Francis had. Francis would speak in a mix of French and English when they were together with Alfred, but Arthur caught Francis speaking French to the little nation more than once when Francis thought no one was listening.

Canada was shy, quiet and always behaved very well when in England's house. However, the boy never spoke much, and when he did was always too low for Arthur to hear him properly over Alfred's loud voice. Alfred always refused to be quiet and seemed to ignore every kind of proper etiquette England had tried to teach him. America was an outgoing and loud child even as a baby. He is enthusiastic, strong minded and idealistic, a quite unique and dangerous mixture. Canada, on the other hand is a shy child, always hiding behind France or his polar bear cub (they found him with it and he refused to leave it behind) but very kind and polite as well as honest. Arthur never spoke much to Matthew, but Alfred always says that "Mattie is very nice, he loves drawing and he likes my stories."

Matthew spoke for the first time in a volume loud enough for England to properly hear him, and hear how his voice was truly like, one day when England and America were leaving after coming to Francis' house so the boys could play (Alfred wouldn't stop bugging England so he finally agreed); Matthew was three years old. Francis was saying bye to Alfred when he noticed that Matthew was still quite angry about a fight he had with Alfred earlier in the day over a toy Alfred took without asking. The Frenchman got on his knees and spoke something in French to the boy whom then hugged Francis, said "Alright, Papa" (which made Arthur glare furiously at Francis, whom simply ignored such act) and then came up to America and said, his cheeks bright pink, "I'm not angry at you anymore. Ask England to bring you to play with us again soon, ok?" Arthur remembered clearly how happy America was in the way back home. He wouldn't stop talking about how he wanted to play with Mattie the very next day, but England wasn't paying much attention. Canada called Francis 'papa'. He was happy for hearing Canada talk in such a loud and clear way but angry because Canada called Francis 'papa'. After Alfred went to bed Arthur crossed the channel to see Francis. The other nation was expecting England; he was waiting at the docks for the nation's arrival. They had a very big fight that night, Francis in the end refused to tell Canada to call him brother or France or the likes and left Arthur to talk to the fish. Arthur was furious but there was nothing he could do because Matthew lived with France and the Frenchman seemed to be impossible to reason with.

Perhaps he should've guessed that a day such as this day would come. France was since then giving clues that he saw the nations as more than just colonies. Now that England thought about it, Francis always has acted as if they were a family.

Arthur didn't hate those 'family' times they had. He understood that it was important for Matthew and Alfred to be friends with each other (no one wanted them to end up like France and England, that are so close to each other and yet fight all the time). He denied the reason he spent most of his time in his manor in Dover was because of the Frenchman, who coincidentally also had a recently built a house in Calais. Most times Arthur would act irritated when France showed up, a bottle of wine in hands and Matthew hiding behind his legs hugging his inseparable bear. He would complain and insult the Frenchman while Matthew simply murmured a low "Hello, England. Excuse me…" and would run to Alfred's encounter. Francis always ignored the insults and made himself comfortable in the island nation's house, taking over the kitchen to cook lunch for the boys and relaxing in the couch afterwards, to the horror of the maids. England would dismiss the maid and gorverness whenever Francis showed up, he could not deal with all the whispers and gossip. The boys would play and talk. Alfred is quite the opposite of Canada's personality and maybe that was the reason why they were such good friends. America likes his little brother and is always showing him things, and telling him stories but he loves to be the center of attention. Canada's personality allows Alfred to do that, always paying attention to him and agreeing to the things he says.

Arthur and Francis never spoke much during those times. England would just read or do some embroidering and politely ignore the Frenchman. He would never admit he enjoyed the company or that he loved to watch the two little nations play together. Sometimes he would go to Francis house, but he preferred not to because of the smile that would emerge in France's face at the sight of the Englishman before his doorstep.

England hated that smile.

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**Hi guys! Hope you liked it so far. This is my first ever published story and I would really enjoy some encouragement to finish it. I really hate to say it but I am lacking self-confidence (please forgive this weak person .) it is quite scary to have people to actually read the things I write. **

**So... _Reviews make me smile and fill my heart with happiness and fluff? _3**

**Also, English is not my first language so please be kind if pointing out any grammatical errors. Constructive reviews and suggestions are welcome ^^ **

**Thank you!**

**EDIT: Wow it been a loooong time since I even looked at this fic. I re-read it and have been making some slight changes (nothing that affects the story!) in order for it to be more accurate of the time and also some grammar mistakes. I changed minor things in most chapters but again, nothing to do with the main story. Thank you for all of those who continue to read this fic. (7/31/2012)**

**:) **


	2. Chapter 2

England hated that smile.

Nothing made sense in their 'relationship'. He hated the bloody frog. They had been in each other's arms many times, but they still hated each other. Most of the time they end up in bed high quantities of alcohol are involved. England always blamed the whiskey when he would wake up in the morning with his head aching and France sleeping next to him, one arm around Arthur's waist. He always pretended he didn't remembered what they did or the things they said to one another. England would repeatedly tell himself it was only because they were both drunk, and that maybe they were lonely that night, but the drinks were what made them act in such a way.

It wasn't love.

He had hated the Frenchman for so long. He couldn't even explain why he hated Francis so much. He just hated everything about the other nation. However, whom he hated the most was himself. He would fall again and again for the man's words and lies, allowing the Frenchman to touch his body, kiss him, tell him charming words.

Definitively not love…

"Arthur." France said pulling the Englishman back to reality. Arthur looked at Francis and Francis noticed that Arthur's eyes were glassy from the tears accumulated as a result of his thoughts. France was caught by surprise but didn't relax. He walked to the table and touched the polished wood with the tips of his fingers. He then looked at Arthur and smiled lightly at the little vulnerability England was showing. He felt like touching the other man's face but he didn't, he knew it would only make the other nation angry. He didn't want to fight anymore, that was not the reason he had come there for. "I _will_ tell them. Since they are so young maybe they will forgive us."

England's gaze became hard like rock as he heard those words and France almost couldn't react when the island nation suddenly grabbed him by the collar of his chemise, pulling him closer and in a fast movement took a dagger from his boot at the same time the Frenchman also pulled a dagger from his belt. Both daggers were in their respective necks less than 5 seconds. Francis had a grip on Arthur's hair, he mused how was it that the other didn't even flinch for he knew it was painful. England still held Francis captive by the chemise, forest green eyes never diverting from sky blue ones.

France smiled. That was the reaction he thought Arthur would have at the beginning. England tightened his grip on the dagger when he noticed the smile on the other nations' face.

"_Angleterre_, please, we both know you won't kill me and I won't kill you." Francis said, his tone a bit dramatic and lips curved in a playful smile. He loved England's reactions.

"Do you know something funny Francis? You speak about lies and how you can't deal with it but you are one of the best liars I know. I won't let you tell them. You always lie to me, shouldn't be all that hard to lie to my colonies." England said with an equally playful smile, but Francis could see in his eyes the hate Arthur felt, an almost intimidating aura emanating from him.

"_Our_ colonies, Arthur." Francis corrected, frowning his eyebrows delicately as if the Englishman had just committed a tiny mistake while declaiming a poem.

"Not if I kill you." England pressed the dagger closer to Francis' jugular, clearly not enjoying the Frenchman's actions and games.

"What would you tell Mathieu? He would never forgive you for killing his father." Francis copying and matching England's hold on the dagger.

"You are not his father. You are not _their_ father."

"Non? Strange, because I'm quite sure that Alfred eye color is identical to mine. He has your hair tough, poor baby." France said thinking for a moment and then smiling a different smile. _His loving smile_ England realized as the French man lowered his eyes lost in his own little world, almost as if he didn't had a pointy and sharp object pressed against his neck. It seemed the mention of the boys made Francis forget all about the situation he was in and he became lost in thought, weaking his grip on the dagger he was holding against England. "He has your laugh, your true laugh. The one you laugh when you are drunk. Canada acts just like you when you were a kid, but with my beautiful hair. Always so shy and uncertain, but full of ideas. He talks of tales and things I know nothing about and he is just such a loving child. Behind all that insecurity and shyness he is so strong and brave." he continued "Mathieu and Alfred look so much alike and yet their personalities are quite opposites, non?" Francis raised his gaze to meet Arthur eyes once again. He lets go lightly of Arthur's hair, motioning to touch his face but changed his mind in mid action as if he remebered he had a dagger to his throat. Sighting, he helf the other's hair strongly again, making England whince a bit and his eyes harden. "Alfred looks just like you. When I first saw him it was like looking at you from centuries ago minus caterpillar eyebrows. I should be angry they look so much like you, I mean, half the credits are mine."

Arthur felt like crying. Why was Francis doing this to him? He knew all that. He too had observed all those similarities and reflections of themselves in the boys. He knew it and yet at the same time he didn't. He didn't know how Matthew was like. He never spent much time with the boy. _Why didn't I? He is as much as my colony as he is Francis'_.Colony… Maybe it was because he knew that differently from France he pretended as if America and Canada were just colonies. He took care of them but never wanted to get to know better his neither of his colonies at the Americas… He even neglected and abused his countries at times. _Why? When did I become a heartless tyrant and Francis the good guy?_

"Stop" Arthur said more to stop his own thoughts since Francis already ceased speaking. Arthur looked at the Frenchman's collar that he was holding on to. He didn't trust his eyes; Francis knew all too well how to read them. "I don't want to hear any of that. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want you to admit they are not just colonies. I knew it immediately just like you did. You keep telling them to call you brother when you know you are much more than just their 'big brother'. How can you tolerate it?" Arthur didn't answer immediately, making Francis pull on his hair, even angrier "_Me répondre_!"

"I'm doing this for them!" England screamed back at the Frenchman, losing control over his words and the tears that now fell freely on top of his papers. "How do you think they would react? They are too young to understand our… drunken nights."

"That's it? You don't want them to know we had sex?" Francis was seriously shaken and annoyed "Well, I wasn't planning on telling them details if that is what you are worried about! _Merde!_ They are just kids for crying out loud!"

"I know they are just kids! I can't just… They won't…" Arthur dropped the dagger and let go of France's collar, Francis also letting go of his hair as a reflexive response. He then collapsed on the chair and put his hands on his face, sobs getting the best of him "I don't… I don't know…"

Francis had his mouth open at the scene. He didn't understand what England was thinking, he wasn't making sense and that was scaring Francis. Arthur was always the one to have an answer to everything. Sure, he hid his true feelings behind layers and layers of 'proper etiquette', 'values' and sarcasm but Francis always knew how to peel every single one of those layers. Right now Arthur was not hiding behind one of his protective layers, he was lost. Utterly and completely confused and lost.

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**OMG guys! I am so happy it should be illegal! Thank you so much for all the favorites and reviews! You guys are just too kind! I am happy you are enjoying this as much as I am enjoying writing it. Sorry for the slightly shorter chapter. I tried my best not to end on too much of a cliffhanger (I hate those) and I will post the final chapter(s?) as soon as I can. Also, I gave a title to my chapters and they actually are... something... and they mean something (not random sentences!)... and the person who gets it right first gets (aside from the awesome feeling of being smart), if they want to claim it, a request-fanfiction! Yay, so cool! \o/**

**Well, Thanks for all of you who are reading and feel welcomed to review/suggest/criticize/chat if you so desire!**

**Bye bye~~ 3**


	3. Chapter 3

Francis dropped his dagger next to England's on the table. He then sat down on the chair. He sighted and looked at the man in front of him. He organized his thoughts a little, trying to see what the real problem was. _He is angry and sad. It doesn't make sense that he should be angry at the boys. I can see that he loves them as much as I do. Must be something else, which can truly get under his skin… _And then he realized.

"Arthur." Francis called but the other nation didn't look at him. Francis then got up and walked up to Arthur, pulling and turning England's chair so that the crying nation was in front of him, his hands in each of the chair arms to refrain Arthur from running away. Arthur was hiding his flowing tears with both hands, not looking at Francis or protesting his actions. "Arthur, this is not about the kids anymore is it? Why… Why are you angry at me?"

Arthur laughed a low short and dry laugh "Angry at you? How could I be angry at you? You did nothing wrong. Here you are, looking for truthfulness and honesty. You are caring for your colonies, nothing I should be angry about. " More tears falling at every word he pronounced.

"_Our_ colonies." Francis remarked once again.

"Don't. I don't want to hear you say it." Arthur said in a low murmur.

"Wh-" France was going to ask but Arthur spoke again before he had the time to finish his sentence.  
"I do not want you to say 'our' colonies as if they... How can I? You may not, but I do care! They are the result of you having a good time. Don't talk like they are our planned and desired sons to complete a happy family! I fell for your lies and seduction and shared a bed with you. Repeatedly. Just like pretty much every nation in the world. I won't let the colonies, or other nations for that matter, acknowledge it. I won't be just another nation that you shared a bed with and such action, in a way we have no idea, end up producing two children. I won't let Alfred and Matthew find out about it! How can I? They are too young to understand this relationship we have!" Francis was looking blankly at England. The other nation was crying and had his cheeks red for both rage and embarrassment. Arthur always got very messy when he cried; he wouldn't wipe his tears because he says that makes it "even more embarrassing". He was crying so hard that France felt like crying himself. He lowered himself and took out a handkerchief from his pocked and offered it to the Englishman, whom snatched it from France's hand but did not wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Arthur, I ne-" France began but was again cut off by the Englishman.

"Shut up! I do not want to hear anything you have to say! I hate you!" He screamed, his tears falling in greater quantity. France couldn't stop the tears in his own eyes from falling. He touched England's cheek with the tip of his fingers and caressed it.

"Don't touch me, you bloody frog!" Arthur screamed and slaped Francis' hand away, in response Francis only held on to his face with both hands, one in each cheek and forcing the island nation to look at him.

"How can you not understand? All this time… How can you think that?" Francis said as he leaned forward and kissed the other man's forehead and then licked the tears that were still falling from his eyes. They tasted like salt and sadness mixed with misunderstanding and rejection.

"Let me go…! I h-hate you… W-why do you keep d-doing this to me?" Arthur said in a chaos of tears and hiccups whilst trying to set free from Francis grip, but it was useless. He was tired and angry…

He gave up.

Arthur leaned forward and burrowed his hands on Francis silky, beautiful hair. "I hate you so much." He said after calming down a little, pulling on the Frenchman's hair and nailing his scalp as to prove his point. Francis only smiled, _like the idiot that I am_, and touched their foreheads.

"All this time… All the times we made love, all the things I told you when we were alone… All those things and you still don't understand how I feel…" Francis brushed his lips on Arthur's lips and saw the man closing his eyes, but pulling away "I love you so much."

"You lie… You always lie, frog… Stop this…" Arthur said, tears falling again.

"I never lied to you, Arthur. Never… Not even once. All that I said was truth. I may flirt with other nations but I only care about you and _our_ colonies. Our children. Je t'aime… Seulement tu. Only you. I've always had. I don't make _love _to anyone but you. You are the only one to me. You and the boys are everything to me, Arthur." Francis was crying. Arthur looked at his eyes and thought that it should be illegal to stain such a beautiful sky with tears.

Hate…

Love…

Does it really matter how he felt towards the frog? He was always been there. Fighting and loving, trusting and betraying, leaving and coming… Back to him. Always him. Always Arthur.

But…

"You betrayed me so many times. How can you say 'I love you'? How do you expect me to believe you? I don't even know…" Arthur said touching France's cheek. Francis placed his own hand on top of Arthur's.

"You just don't want to admit, mon cher. I understand it because I know you. Our story is… complicated… but you are and will always be my everything. We betrayed and loved and fought… yes… But you were always there. You are my loved enemy… hated lover… and vice versa." Francis said smiling sadly.

"Why do you say these things?" Arthur said scratching Francis cheek with his nails for a second and then lowering himself so he is centimeters away from those lips he kissed oh-so-many-times "How many times do you intent to shatter my heart?"

"As many as necessary." Francis murmured before closing the distance between them.

England didn't pull away. He closed his eyes instead and tasted those lips that were as soft as always. They tasted the same way they always did, ever since their first kiss centuries ago they were always like this. Soft and perfect against his lips…

"N-no" Arthur murmured and pulled away from the Frenchman lips not even ten seconds after they touched as he remember he should be angry at the frog, not falling for his words yet again. "I can't. You are trying to fool me int-"

"Ferme ta bouche." Francis said rather angrily before covering Arthur lips with his own once more. He loved to kiss Arthur, it felt natural. When they kissed it was like all the horrible things that happened between them were forgotten for a moment. Just as if they travelled back in time to their first kiss, a millennia (or more) ago. Before when the world was big and they were young, with no worries and certainly not as much hate. Kissing Arthur was to Francis like kissing the sun: warm and beautiful yet hot and dangerous . _And vital, _he thought separating their mouths in order to breath. "Arthur I-"

"No! Now you be quiet and let me talk. I know what you are going to say. You still want to tell the boys." Arthur said in a rather authoritarian voice not matching at all his situation, considering he was in France's arms and was kissing him not even 10 seconds ago.

"Well, oui, but I-"

"You be quiet frog. I have decided something." Arthur proclaimed, his cheeks reddening, while lightly touching Francis' bangs. France found it quite adorable and amusing, and a grin began forcing its way to his lips.

"Did you now mon petit lapin? May I ask what did you decide?" He asked looking at Arthur with completely focused and interested sky-blue eyes.

"I did." Arthur said, taking his hands off of the Frenchman's hair and avoiding his eyes by pretending his painting of the English countryside located at the wall in front of him was absolutely divine and that it deserved his total attention. "And don't call me that, bloody frog."

"Oui, oui. Please do tell your decision?"

"I decided I will listen to your 'suggestion'." Arthur said observing Francis reactions with the corner of his eye. He noticed the smile rise and die in Francis face and his blue eyes glitter with suspicion.

"What do you intent on telling them Angleterre?" Francis asked getting up from his crotched down position and standing in his full height while he moved a couple of steps away from Arthur.

"Well, I believe they are not yet ready to understand us."_ Even I do not understand us nor what just happened_, Arthur said gingerly and shifting a little in his chair, crossing his legs and resting his chin in his closed fist and looking at France with his piercing green eyes. Francis thought he looked perfect like that, a perfect imagine of the majesty and importance of his being.

Francis tried not to be caught up by the whole image and 'us' part of the sentence and remained poker-faced, only allowing an eyebrow to move up delicately whilst remarking "Why not?"

"Primarily because they are still very much young." England said glancing at France for a second before adding "I do not suppose they would understand, specially the fact we are both men."

"Oh, do you feel so?" France smiled, and Arthur shivered a bit but fooled himself into thinking it was just getting a bit cold. _It is almost autumn_, he lied to his conscience.

"Yes I do." Arthur said firmly.

"Trés bien." Francis agreed. Moving gracefully he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest. With a smile but intense eyes he asked calmly "But what would you do if let's say, by chance, Mathieu already knew all about it, mon cher?"

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**Hi guys! Sorry it took so long to update! We are finally coming to the ending! YAY \o/ I will hopefully finish writing the story during the weekend so expect to see it online around Tuesday (or Wednesday, max.! Promise!). It will probably be just one more chapter, but I cannot guarantee (please bear this with me!) .**

**Thanks for all the new reviews/favorites/alerts! They fill my heart with rainbows and happiness dipped in white chocolate 3**

**Also, congrats to Eternally1Yours who got the title right! The answer was a poem, titled "Love Is Not All" By Edna St. Vincent Millay, one of my favorites and so worth checking it out (it is beautiful! *-*) So, Eternally1Yours , please contact me via email/reviews/Morse-code/smoke/whatever to claim your request fanfic! **

**Well, that is all!Thanks you very much for reading this far! See you guys soon!**

**3**


	4. Last Chapter

"What?" Arthur narrowed his eyes and his whole body became rigid. _Great…_ Francis felt angry with England's denial and just said it without actually thinking about it. He felt like kicking himself. Every time he was able to have a civil conversation with England, actually be on good terms and just _talk, _really talk that is, about their relationship and the boys and actually be open about how he felt and having Arthur be open and honest with himself without going at each others' throats, it seemed Francis' mouth just moved on its own and he would say something and ruin everything. _Perhaps I am cursed_, he mused.

"Well, how can I explain it? Mathieu came up to me one day asking if petit Alfred was his brother because you see, he is very smart and ensuite you did not really think they would never notice?" Francis explained losing the confidence and anger he felt just moments ago which made him reveal about Matthew. Talking a bit fast for he did not enjoy England's eyes on him like that he continued "When he asked me so I was petrified for a second and he noticed it. He said it was fine and went on to leave. I could not bear it Arthur, he was too kind. He was not judging or angry, only curious and I did not feel it was just to not tell him. I know I should not have lied to you but I knew you would be angry."

"More like bloody irate!" Arthur said closing and pinching his eyes with his thumb and index finger, but not getting up. He inspired deeply two times and looked at France once again. Suprisingly, Arthur was not so angry, he was actually a bit curious. "Matthew." He said in order to gain Francis attention "What did he say afterwards? After you told him about it."

France smiled "He said he was happy because he always thought of Alfred as famille. Which is quite reasonable, non? He did not ask for why's and how's."

" Did he…." _ask about me?_ Arthur found himself unable to complete. Could he really ask such question, could he really suppose Matthew felt that way towards him? _What way?_He did not even spoke to the boy aside from formalities and small talk. Hell, what feelings could the boy possibly have towards someone who to him was nothing more than his colonizer? He never really showed much affection neither to his youngest or Alfred (or any of the other colonies of that matter). He was closer to Alfred than to any other colony manly because (and he would never admit this) he knew that Alfred and Matthew were something more to him, not just a young nation under his control. It was also that it was difficult for him to show affection, his own history molded him such way.

"He did." Francis said, recuing Arthur from his thoughts and moving closer to his chair. "He did ask of you."

"He… did." Arthur repeated and Francis almost cried when he saw the happiness in Arthur's eyes. Arthur felt like he surely did not deserve the boy to be so kind. He met Francis' gaze as the French nation lowered once again in front of his chair, on one knee as if Arthur was Her Majesty The Virgin Queen.

"He asked if you are his Papa too." France touched England's cheek, ignoring the blush and frown.

"What did you say?" Arthur asked at Francis with his shining emerald eyes.

"I said oui. He was very happy but then he asked wh-"

"Why I never act as a father?" England guessed with a sad smile on his face.

"You cannot blame him for thinking so, cheri. He did not understand why we live in separate houses and why no one said to him Alfred was his brother. He is a very bright child Arthur, I knew this day would come and now it is only a matter of time until Alfred figures it out too. That is, if he does not know already." Francis was happy to come clean about what he said to Matthieu but the sadness in England's eyes showed him it would not be easy for England to learn to show his love more often. He hid his feelings deep in his heart since a young age. He went through many things, many bad things… And love was something he was taught to not show as it was a weakness and a flaw to the powerful empire he represented. Arthur was always loyal and devoted to his people and for such reason he grew to become a sometimes cruel ruler. Francis fought him so many times he does not even remember; he knew Arthur was both as beautiful as a rose and as dangerous as its thorns.

"Do you think he does? Alfred, that is." England looked somewhat nervous, which made Francis smile at his previous thoughts. Arthur was a rose of many petals, one more surprising than the other.

"I do not know, love." And England's fear filled eyes were greeted by a loving smile and sky blue eyes that spoke of love, adoration and support.

"I suppose there is no way. I should have known this day would come, huh?" Arthur said, moving his hand to rest on top of Francis' in the arm of the chair and blushing a little as a result of the other's eyes.

Francis chuckled a little and brought Arthur's hand to his lips "But you did, cheri." And Arthur knew it was true and could only smile as Francis pressed his lips to top of Arthur's hand with feather-like lightness and then moved it to rest on top of his heart. "I will be with you always, vous et ils seront pour toujours mon tout." And England felt like crying because he knew it was true.

As France stood there on one knee, head low with silent tears going down his face regardless of his smile, holding England's hand over his heart England knew that no matter how many times he would say in the future he hated the stupid frog or how many times they would go to war and hurt each other France loved him and the boys and he would forever love him. And England would love him back, even when he hated him he would love him. Just like England would forever love Canada and America and even if he did make wrong choices love was and would forever be the reason behind his actions.

"Thank you Francis." Arthur said softly, touching Francis' cheek in such an endering way he even suprised himself and with sudden courage he did not know where it came from he said what he was thinking and truly wanted to say, withour any sarcasm, or resentment of even hate. He simply closed his eyes and hoped his words made any sense to the Frenchman "I know we are beyond complicated however I hope you will remeber today and the things we shared and said and hold them dear in your heart whenever we start hating each other again. Whenever I look at the boys I will try and remeber of how I feel now. Of the... of the love I feel now. For you and for them." Arthur then lightly kissed France's forehead. Francis smiled and kissed Arthur's forehead back, as if exchanging vows.

"I thought you were supposed to be the romantic country…" England said very softly, with a smile threatening to submerge in his lips.

"I thought so too, but I guess life is full of surprises, non mom petit lapin?" Francis answered and kissed Arthur again, just a peck on the lips. Chaste and innocent, like their first kiss was.

"ARTHUR! ARE YOU STILL WORKING? I WANNA GO AND SEE M-" came the jovial and **loud **voice combined by small yet fast footsteps, which certainly stained Arthur's beautiful Persian rug with mud and grass. "What are you doing?" Young America questioned making a weird face when he entered the study and saw England and France (who was getting up and straightening himself).

"America! How do you do?" France interrupted, bowing slightly and putting himself in front of England so Alfred could not catch the shade of crimson which was making its way to England's ears.

"I'm fine." The young one answered only to receive an angry stare from his caretaker who was already to his feet and in his natural skin tone. "I mean, I am fine thank you. How do you do?"

"What do you wish America? You were very rude barging in as you did. France and I are discussing… business." Arthur said coughing a little at the 'business' part.

"Oh, my dear Arthur, it is no problem." Francis interrupted, waving to Arthur a silent shut up. "I believe we already settled our business, non? And it is quite fortunate that young Alfred here showed up. Alfred we need to ta-"

"France, be quiet." England said tugging on Francis' sleeve.

"Arthur, we talked. I thought we decided this." Francis said turning to face the island nation behind him.

"I know we did, however…" Arthur began but glanced at Alfred whom was very much interested in the conversation of the two adults. France smiled, and turned to Alfred who quickly straightened and looked toward the window, seemly absolutely focused on the changing of leafs on the trees outside.

"Arthur, mon chou, could you please step outside for a bit? Perhaps you could clean yourself and ask a maid to fix you something to eat. Arthur was just telling me he plans on staying in my country house during the Fall Festival. I am sure Matthieu will be delighted to see _both_ of you." France said, giving Arthur a little poke with his elbow when he made motion to protest.

"Is it true Arthur?" America asked with the biggest smile on his face. Upon seeing those big blue eyes which were replicas of another pair which also were looking at him with crazy anticipation Arthur found it impossible to say no. How could he deny something to the 6-year-old when he looked like he was about to explode of so much happiness? So Arthur just nodded and let out a sigh, completely defeated.

America smile got even bigger and brighter, he ran and jumped in Arthur's arms, hugging him by the neck and turning to hug Francis who was already hugging them.

"Thank you Arthur! Thank you Francis! I really want to see Mattie!" Alfred said, looking at England with those happiness filled eyes. England smiled too, and then he could no longer see Alfred's face for his eyes got misty and he could not stop the tears.

"Arthur! What is it? Did I hurt you? Am I too heavy?" America questioned but Arthur only hugged him tighter. "France, what happened?" Alfred pressed on.

"Nothing, my dear. Arthur is just a bit too happy, I believe. He probably missed Mattieu too." Francis answered, pulling Alfred to his arms and lowering to the ground. "Do not worry, go on do what I said. We will join you shortly."

"Yes…" America muttered before slowly making his way to the door. Before he left he turned and saw Francis hugging Arthur and quietly saying something to him. He was touching Arthur's cheek, and he got really close to Arthur's face, who had his eyes closed and had ceased to cry. _Why is France so close to Arthur? He looks like he will kiss… _But his thought was cut short when he felt the familiar chill all kids get when they are caught doing something wrong and then Alfred looked at Francis and saw the nation looking at him curiously, one perfect eyebrow raised. And then Alfred ran.

"Francis?" Arthur asked opening his eyes.

"Did you stop crying, cheri?" Francis asked, smiling at Arthur who smiled back and nodded. France decided not to mention that Alfred saw them, Arthur would be quite embarrassed. "Good." And he kissed the English nation softly.

"I was too happy. Alfred does not hug me like he used to. I believe it is my fault." said Arthur, touching Francis hair with the tip of his fingers.

"He is growing up, you need to encourage affection. He is too much like you, he gets embarrassed easily." France explained and smiled fondly when he saw Arthur cheeks gain a lovely shade of red.

"I… We. We will have to tell them. But please, give me some time to accustom to the idea."

"Yes, but don't worry. I think it will not be so hard." Francis said, and added "I will hold your hand" jokingly.

Arthur looked at him and smiled, freeing himself from his arms but taking hold of the French nation's hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing his ring finger softly before interlacing their fingers.

"Please do so." He said and dragged a blushing France out of the study.

**Hey guys. Omg, it has been so long since I last updated and for that I apologize, I am crappy with deadlines. Many things happened but everything is (I think) okay now. I moved to another country, so if there are any Brazilians reading my story I say Hi :)**

**This story is done as of now, but if I do decide to make a sequel I will try to update it more often than this one, I promise lol**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and did not avalanched my mail box with angry emails asking for the last chapter.**

**Kisses and until next time! 3**


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